


It Happened One Night

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: 1930s, Collection: BradyGirl_12 Fic Prompt/Request Fills, Drama, First Meetings, Golden Age, Great Depression, Identity Porn, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Movie Night, Movie Reference, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, World's Finest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fresh-off-the-farm Clark discovers new experiences in the Big City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Through The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Clark works up the courage to go to a gay bar in Metropolis.  
> Original LJ Date Of Completion: August 17, 17, 17, 18, 18, 2007  
> Original LJ Date Of Posting: August 19, 21, 22, 28, 31, 2007  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 1554 + 828 + 1562 + 417 + 329 (Total: 4690)  
> Author’s Note: [Greeneyelove](greeneyelove.livejournal.com) requested “Clark and Bruce meet and have a one-night stand (or so they think) and then they discover who the other really is” from my [DCU Fic Request Meme.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/75156.html) All chapters can be found [here.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/13235.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark works up the courage to go to a gay bar in Metropolis.

**1934**

Clark nervously adjusted his tie. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Inside, it was dark and smoky, at first glance a typical club located in a brownstone cellar in Metropolis. Tables and booths were scattered around, and there was room for dancing in the center. A Wurlitzer jukebox glowed in the corner, the brightest thing in the room.

A bar curved around one side, a few patrons sitting on the barstools. One occupant was a woman in red silk, her curvy legs crossed as she smoked a cigarette; long, platinum hair cascaded down her back.

Clark was unsure what to do. He was certain that he looked fresh off the farm, but he had carefully researched what to wear. As a prospective college student this fall, he thought he could get away with the look: dark-blue pants, a crisp, white shirt, and a wine-red vest. He had arranged his hair in the latest style, and had bought a new pair of tortoiseshell glasses instead of his usual horn rims. Shiny new pennies gleamed in his loafers.

Hopefully his semi-disguise didn’t scream ‘Hick from the sticks!’ but maybe ‘naïve college student’.

“Hey, kid, what’ll you have?”

Startled, Clark looked at the bartender. A burly man with a cigar sticking out of his mouth, his brown eyes held a touch of sympathy for Clark’s obvious greenness.

“I…uh…”

The gruff voice suggested, “Beer?”

Clark nodded and the bartender drew him a mug from the tap. Clark fumbled for money, dropping a few quarters on the floor, and the bartender said, “There’s an empty table in the corner.”

“Thank you.”

Mortified, Clark took the mug and concentrated on walking to the table without a mishap. A quick glance around showed that most of the patrons were watching him. Well, he was new. For a second, he wanted to turn around and leave, but decided that would look even dumber than his entrance.

Settling in at the table, he kept his eyes on his beer, wishing that his blush would go away.

He wasn’t alone long.

“Hello, there.”

A large, well-muscled man in a red-and-white striped shirt and dungarees was standing in front of his table. He crossed his massive arms and an earring glinted in his left ear. A sailor?

“So, Mr. College Man, want some company?”

Clark gulped. Even though he knew he could wipe the floor with this guy, he felt terribly vulnerable.

“Oh, c’mon now, Joey. Don’t you see the sweetie is new here?”

The new voice’s owner came into view. The older man was dressed in a light purple suit, a dark-purple scarf tossed over his shoulder. With gloved hands he pulled out a silk handkerchief and fanned himself, gray curls tight on his head. 

“So, Precious, how do you like Metropolis?”

An elderly man from the next table cackled, “You old queen! You smell fresh meat and come runnin’! And Popeye is just as bad.”

Clark wished that he hadn’t come to this place. What had he been thinking?

“Hey, boys, let’s give the new guy a break, hmm?”

A third man, around Clark’s age, put his hands on the shoulders of the other two. Blond hair was combed neatly, dark-blue eyes sparkling as he smiled. He was dressed like a college man, too, in a dark-blue vest and pants and pale yellow shirt. Clark immediately felt comfortable with him.

“You tell ‘em, Blondie,” said the platinum-haired woman, swinging her leg as she rested an elbow on the bar.

“Shut up, Max,” growled the sailor. “So the college guy thinks he’s got an in?”

“Oh, c’mon, Bruno, let’s go get a drink. My treat, dear,” said the lavender-suited man. 

Both men left to go to the bar, Clark relieved to see them go.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Uh, no.”

The blond slid into the booth, signaling the bartender. “You go to Met U.?”

“Uh, no. I mean, yes.” Clark blushed. “Not yet. This fall…”

A hand rested on his as he tingled at the touch.

“Kansas, don’t admit _anything_ here. No real names, no real details.” 

“Oh.” Clark wasn’t good at this secret stuff. Well, anything beyond his Secret, anyway. “Thank you.”

The other man looked a little surprised. “Uh, you’re welcome.” He held out his hand. “Jim.”

“Cl…uh, Cal.”

“Hey, Cal.” Jim smiled blindingly at the bartender, who shook his head in amusement as he set the drink down. “So, as long as you’ve spilled the beans about Met U., what will you be studying?”

Somebody put a nickel in the jukebox and Cole Porter’s _Blue Moon_ started playing.

“Journalism,” he said.

“Hmm, good profession.”

“Umm, I suppose you don’t want to talk about your studies.”

“I can talk a little about them.” Jim smiled. “I’ve taken some criminology courses.”

“Criminology?” Clark’s eyes lit up. “Are you studying to be a policeman?”

Jim smiled again. “Something like that.”

“So, what have you learned?”

“That criminals can be clever, but they can be caught if you’re more clever than they are.”

The light tone was laced with steel conviction. Clark was impressed. A bright young guy like this would be an asset to any police department. 

“Ma and Pa said that I should figure out where my talent is, and go from there.”

“Your parents sound like wise people.”

“They are.”

Clark wasn’t sure, though, how they would feel about the place in which he was currently nursing a beer. He had never told them about his inclinations and wasn’t sure if they suspected.

It hurt a little to think that talking with them about being an alien was easier than discussing his attraction to men.

“Cal, you okay?”

Clark looked at Jim, who was concerned as he laid a hand on his arm. A shiver went through Clark.

“I am, I just…”

“They don’t know?”

Miserably, Clark shook his head.

“It’s okay. I doubt many people in this bar are out.”

Clark glanced around. Jim withdrew his hand, which Clark regretted. 

“Jim?”

“Yes?”

Clark leaned over and whispered, “Is that woman in red…not a woman?”

Jim chuckled. “That’s right, dear.” He drank his beer. “So, how do you think the New Deal thing is going?”

Momentarily confused, Clark realized that his companion wanted to do some talking first. Maybe find out if Clark wasn’t as dumb as he was acting? Geez Louise, he had to get his act together!

“I like it a lot. Too many people still out of work, but his Administration’s saved a lot of farmers from foreclosure.” Clark thought of the many sleepless nights his family had suffered before measures had been taken to save hard-hit farmers. “At least FDR is trying to help people.”

“His wife, too. I heard that she’s his eyes and ears, out on the road more than she’s home at the White House.”

“Oh, because of his polio?”

Jim nodded and took a swig of beer. “He seems to do remarkably well, polio or not. Still, you notice we never see him in a wheelchair in stills or on _Movietone_ news, or when he walks in the newsreels, either. He’s just shown standing and holding on to the arm of one of his sons or aides.”

Clark frowned. “You’re right.” He took a sip of beer, his eyes lighting up. “But they’re doing good work. That’s what I want to do, help people.”

“Crusading journalist or muckracker?” Jim chuckled.

“Aren’t they one and the same?” Clark grinned.

“True.”

A new song started playing, _All Through The Night_. Someone really liked Cole Porter.

“Want to dance?”

Surprised, Clark looked at the dance floor with two couples already swaying, then back at Jim. He hesitated for a second, then said firmly, “Sure.”

They were out on the dance floor, figuring out positioning, then Clark rested his head on Jim’s shoulder as they slow-danced.

It felt strange at first, then gradually very, very good. Clark was losing himself in the scent of his companion: faint sandalwood, strawberry-scented shampoo, and Ivory soap. Clark smiled into Jim’s shoulder. Sometimes super-senses were a blessing, all right.

He certainly hoped that he smelled as appealing. He’d used apple-scented shampoo and Ivory soap, too.

The song ended and they returned to their table, Jim ordering fresh drinks.

Jim’s blue eyes sparkled. A lock of blond hair fell over his forehead, and Clark’s breathing quickened. He had been driven here to find those who shared his inclinations. He wanted…he knew a man was supposed to wait for marriage and romance and all that, but his attractions were to people for which marriage was just a dream.

He wanted to make love to another man.

Jim was incredibly handsome with pretty blond hair that smelled clean and like strawberries on a warm summer day, blue eyes that looked as clear as Miller’s Pond, and a great body that promised so much. This would be nothing but a one-night stand, but Clark wanted this.

Very badly.

His eyes met Jim’s.

Jim licked his lips. “I’ve got a room.”

“I…” Clark wasn’t sure what to say.

Jim was more knowledgeable. He left a generous tip on the table and they exited the bar, disappointed sighs in their wake.

“Better luck next time, Sugar,” the lavender-suited man said to Joey, who snorted and drank his beer.


	2. Coming Attractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tinseltown glamour is just too glittery to resist! :)

Clark and Jim walked in the fresh night air, Clark impressed by its clear quality. Usually city air was a poor comparison to the country air he was accustomed to breathing.

Clark had to concentrate on blocking out the sounds of the city. So many sounds, so many people! He hoped his lack of conversation didn’t put off Jim.

As they continued to Jim’s hotel, Clark felt himself getting more and more nervous. He wanted this, but what if he messed it up? He wasn’t experienced, after all.

His stomach began to jump. He just hoped this guy wouldn’t end up laughing in his face.

“Hmm, looks like it’s still a hot movie.”

“Hmm?”

Jim pointed to the marquee of _The Bijou_ across the street: **It Happened One Night, Starring Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert.** A long line stretched down the block.

“Oh, yeah.” Clark brightened. “I’ve heard it’s real good.”

“Want to go see it? My treat.”

Clark looked at Jim. Was he trying to back out?

Jim’s smile seemed genuine, and Clark liked the idea. It felt like a date. For his first time, it felt right.

“Yeah.” Clark’s smile was dazzling. “I’d like that.”

So they got in line, Jim flirting with the girls in front of them, Clark smiling shyly.

Just two buddies out for a good time.

Of course, the girls thought they were out for a heterosexual good time. Fine, as it was a good cover. Where better to pick up girls than at this movie? 

Jim was a generous date. He bought Clark and himself popcorn, Coke, Good ‘N’ Plentys, and Jujube Fruits. Jim led them to seats in the back, but not the balcony, and Clark was glad. He would have felt uncomfortable with all the heterosexual couples necking around him up there.

The first feature was a Max Fleischer Popeye cartoon, Clark amused by the feisty seaman gaining super-strength via a can of Spinach.

The next cartoon was Disney’s Mickey Mouse, and Jim whispered, “Amazing that a man can build an empire based on a rodent.” 

Clark grinned and whispered back, “I think it’s the ears. Very cute.”

Jim chuckled and ate his popcorn.

Next was a _Three Stooges_ short, _Men In Black,_ spoofing the Clark Gable movie, _Men In White,_ a serious hospital film. Naturally, Moe, Larry, and Curly set their hospital on its head. Both Clark and Jim chuckled at its Chief of Staff asking, “What did you do for the patient in Room 347?” and Curly’s snappy answer, “Nothin’! What did he ever do for us?” The theme of the short, “For Duty and Humanity!” was spoofing the Gable flick, but Clark liked it. It was a motto worth having, in his opinion.

_Movietone News_ flickered on next, the announcer’s stentorian voice saying, _“The First Lady made a visit to the coal miners of West Virginia, putting on a hard hat and taking the elevator down to talk to the men.”_

“Amazing woman,” Jim murmured.

More New Deal projects were touted, an artist painting a mural for the WPA; boys and young men planting trees for the CCC; and work on the power projects of the TVA in Tennessee.

The international news featured a rally at Nuremberg, the still-new Chancellor, Adolph Hitler, ranting as the pageantry caught the eye, hundreds of people working in perfect unison as they cheered and saluted, _“Heil Hitler!”_

Clark frowned. He didn’t like the pronouncements coming out of Germany. Anti-Semitism existed in America, but the Nazis were hammering against Jews with extremely vile statements and laws.

The Coming Attractions started, Clark relaxing. He didn’t want to think about Europe tonight. He wanted to enjoy the movie and the company of the man next to him.

As the films _The Black Cat, Cleopatra, The Gay Divorcee,_ and _The Thin Man_ were touted, he wondered if Jim had sensed his nervousness and suggested this movie to calm him down. If Jim was that attuned and considerate, Clark felt that he could trust him with what was to come later. He hoped that he was reading his companion correctly.

The attractions finished with trailers for _The Lost Patrol, Manhattan Melodrama, Of Human Bondage, One Night Of Love, The Scarlet Pimpernel,_ and _Tarzan And His Mate,_ then the main feature, _It Happened One Night_ , began. 

__The movie captivated Clark. A screwball comedy, it was fast-paced and irreverent, and Clark wanted to be like Clark Gable’s character, reporter Peter Warne. Chasing after a rich heir instead of heiress, falling in love while making snappy patter, and the promise of sex…_ _

__Clark watched as Claudette Colbert’s character, Ellie Andrews, insisted on putting a blanket between their twin beds in their cabin, and Gable’s sardonic crack about “The Walls of Jericho” as he walked around bare-chested instead of wearing an undershirt like most men wore._ _

__By the end of the movie, the Walls of Jericho tumbled down._ _

__Clark hoped the same would happen for him._ _


	3. The Walls Of Jericho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys don’t need the Walls of Jericho. ;)

The hotel was modest but not sleazy, which pleased Clark. He didn’t want his first time to be in some lurid flophouse.

The desk clerk didn’t bat an eye as Clark went up with Jim on the elevator. The lobby was shabby but clean, and the room was the same. The bed linens looked fine.

Suddenly nervous again, Clark looked to Jim for his cue.

Jim stepped up, taking Clark’s face in his hands, starting with a slow, gentle, kiss, then increasing in intensity. 

Excitement built in Clark, his hands sliding up Jim’s back.

Clothes began to be peeled off, both men fumbling, Clark blushing slightly as all that was left was his undershirt and boxers, his erection clearly straining the fabric.

Jim’s erection was doing the same to his boxers, and his hand pressed against Clark, who staggered back with a moan. Jim’s smile was salacious, and he pushed Clark to the bed.

Clark was on his back and Jim kissed his face and throat, pushing up his undershirt and licking both nipples.

Electricity shot through Clark, shuddering slightly as Jim’s tongue slid down his sternum and abs, moaning, “So beautiful, Cal.”

The shirt remained rolled up above Clark’s nipples, Jim urging him to bend his knees and pushed his legs apart, rubbing his groin until Clark writhed under the sensations.

“Legs down so I can get your boxers off,” Jim whispered, and Clark obeyed, blushing again as his cock was exposed, already hard and ready.

“Beautiful,” Jim said in an awe-tinged voice. He touched it, skittering his fingers up and down the swollen flesh, then began licking, Clark drowning in the new sensations.

Suddenly he gasped and bucked his hips up as Jim swallowed him, the warm, wet feeling driving him wild. Incoherent, his fingers clutched the threadbare sheets.

“Oh…Jim…I… _oh!”_

New and myriad emotions cascaded through him as he exploded in Jim’s mouth. Clark closed his eyes as his partner drained him dry. A little embarrassed, he opened his eyes as Jim released his softening cock. When Jim licked his lips, Clark nearly became hard again.

“Now, Sweet Cal, time to take care of me.”

Clark’s body jolted as a finger entered between his buttocks. He tightened but Jim made soothing noises, then leaned down, plucked out a tube from his discarded pants pocket, coated his fingers with cream, and re-inserted them into Clark.

Shock again. Clark shivered, a little frightened but liking the sensations.

“You’re okay with bottoming?” Jim asked.

“I…yes…”

“Good.”

Clark yelped as a secret spot was touched, waves of pleasure washing over him. Jim grinned.

His fingers slid out, coated his cock while Clark stared, and nudged the opening to Clark’s body.

“I…um…”

“You’re okay with this, right?” Jim studied Clark’s face, a light suddenly dawning. “My god…are you a _virgin?”_

Clark blushed miserably, turning his face away. Strong fingers gripped his chin and forced his head back.

“Look at me.” Clark obeyed, his face flaming. “It’s okay to be a virgin, Cal. We all are at the beginning, you know.” Jim’s smile was kind. “I’ll just proceed with that in mind. Let me know if you feel pain or don’t want to continue.”

“Okay,” Clark whispered breathlessly.

Jim’s touch was even gentler as he rested a hand on Clark’s thigh.

“Bring your knees up…that’s the way…now, I’m going to ease in…relax…it may hurt for a moment, tell me if the pain stays instead of going away.”

There wouldn’t be pain, of course, but Jim didn’t know that. Clark’s nervousness came back as he was stretched and filled, but as Jim began to thrust, pure pleasure shot through him. 

“Okay?”

Clark nodded, speechless, and Jim laughed. He increased the rhythm, and when he touched Clark’s prostate, Clark screamed.

He managed to keep his eyes open enough to watch Jim, his glorious naked body looming over him, pleasured concentration on his beautiful face. 

More pleasure, more thrusting, pleasure, thrusting…

Explosions.

Pinwheels.

Heaven.

Gasping, Clark felt Jim pull out and crawl up to put his arms around him.

“Good?”

“The best!”

Jim laughed and stroked Clark’s chest. “Considering I was your first…well, I’ll still take that as a compliment.” He winked.

& & & & & &

The rumble of the El outside the hotel window stirred a sleepy Clark.

“Jim.”

“Hmm?”

“Teach me…” he gestured at his mouth.

Jim propped up on one elbow and traced Clark’s lips. “That does look like a very talented mouth.” At Clark’s blush, Jim laughed and tugged on dark hair. “Okay, let me get up against the headboard.” Jim scooted up, then lazily bent his knees, spreading his legs. “Start tasting, Sweet Cal.”

Clark eagerly crawled up the bed, burying his face in Jim’s groin, inhaling the musky scent. He pulled back, flicking his tongue out, fascinated by the taste of aroused maleness. He slid his tongue up hard flesh, lapped tight balls, and then slowly swallowed the swelling cock.

A strong hand urged him on as it cupped the back of his head, Clark getting used to the cock in his mouth, establishing a rhythm, Jim moaning, fingers curling in his hair, Clark framed by quivering thighs as he sucked, head bobbing, then Clark knew what was coming and swallowed every drop.

The taste was pleasant, salty-sweet, and Jim’s head fell back against the headboard with a soft thump.

His body gleamed with sweat, Clark admiring its beauty as he released Jim’s cock.

“Okay?”

Jim laughed, then coughed, “Um, yeah.” He reached out and touched Clark’s mouth. “Definitely talented.”

Clark smiled proudly, then asked, “Do you like to bottom?”

Jim’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed to a half-lidded expression. He slid down the bed, pushing his legs up. “Get me ready.”

Excited, Clark picked up the tube from the nightstand, coated his fingers, and tentatively touched Jim’s anus.

“Push in,” Jim encouraged.

Clark did, and became more relaxed, his own cock hard, and then replaced his fingers with his penis, thrusting into his partner.

Tight, _hot,_ Jim _moaning…_

He watched his cock slide in and out of the beautiful body, saw Jim’s face flushed with passion, blond hair tumbling, lips slightly parted…

Orgasmic glory.

Jim shouted and Clark joined him.

Exhausted, Clark slid out and crawled up to Jim.

For several minutes they were silent except for the sound of panting breath, then Jim scooted up to the headboard again.

“Whew!” he said, lolling as his arm went up over his head, one knee bent. “If I still smoked, I’d be puffing on a Lucky Strike right now.”

Clark chuckled. “So you don’t smoke?”

“Nah, not good for the lungs.” Jim lightly thumped his chest. “At least I didn’t feel that way.” He looked down at Clark. “You?”

Clark shook his head. “I tried it once. I didn’t like it.” 

Jim stretched, a lock of blond hair falling in his eyes. 

“Looks like we didn’t need any Walls of Jericho,” Clark said.

Jim laughed. “No, we didn’t.” He smirked. “But if we did, they would have tumbled down at the first fuck.”

“I guess we’re like Clark Gable, no undershirts necessary.”

“Ah, yes.” Jim was looking positively indolent. “Do you know undershirt sales have been falling since men have seen Clark Gable without one in the movie?”

“No,” Clark said as he sat back against the headboard. 

Jim pulled up the sheet to their waists as a cool breeze wafted in through the window. “Power of Hollywood. ‘Course, it could just be because men can’t afford new ones right now, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the movie was a major cause.”

“So you really think Hollywood has all that influence?”

“Don’t laugh, image is everything in this world.” Jim looked off in the distance. “Symbolism that strikes in the heart is what can work for you.”

“So what does Clark Gable’s lack of an undershirt symbolize?” Clark asked teasingly.

Jim pulled back from whatever distant place he was seeing and smirked as his other hand linked behind his head, his chest gleaming with sweat.

“I’d say it symbolized one hell of a sexy man. Hell, even his name is sexy: Clark. Unusual but direct.”

Clark sighed. The one time he could use his name to his advantage, and he couldn’t! Jim would never believe that it was his real name now.

Clark wanted…he thought of the tender kiss Jim had started this with and decided it was okay to do the same. He leaned over and kissed Jim with a gentle tenderness that he hoped Jim would like. Emotion flooded through him and he curled his fingers in the sheets.

“Whoa, what was that for?” Jim’s eyes were unreadable.

“A thank you,” Clark said. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink. “For being my first, and for being so patient and kind.”

Something flickered in the other man’s midnight-blue eyes. “You’re welcome, Pumpkin.” He slipped down under the sheets. “Better get some sleep, Kansas. You farmboys rise with the cock, don’t you?”

“My cock rises, but not because a rooster crows.”

Jim chuckled. “Swift on the uptake, Kansas.”

Clark snuggled next to him, hoping it was allowed. “How’d you know I was a farmboy?”

“You smell like sunshine.” Jim sniffed. “And apple shampoo and Ivory soap.”

Clark sighed happily as Jim’s arm went around him.

Happily, the Walls of Jericho hadn’t been needed.


	4. One Perfect Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark, forever searching.

Clark and Jim parted amicably the next morning, and Clark walked on air all day. Eager to enjoy such companionship again, he returned to the bar that night, an hour later than the previous night, trying not to appear too eager, but Jim wasn’t there.

The next night, he arrived an hour earlier than the night he had met Jim, but Jim wasn’t there.

On the third night, dismay filled his heart as a sign on the door read: **CLOSED BY ORDER OF THE METROPOLIS POLICE DEPARTMENT.**

Clark tried other bars but felt uncomfortable in all of them. His desperation for human contact drove him to go to a sleazy hotel with a man, who was infuriated when he changed his mind. Only his super-strength saved him from getting raped.

Shaken, Clark swore off the bars, telling himself it wasn’t as if Jim would be in any of them, anyway. Anonymity and one-night stands were the way of their kind, right? It wasn’t as if he’d be sharing milkshakes at the local soda fountain with Jim, like he used to do with Lana, would it?

But Clark remembered they _had_ dated, and then Jim had helped him lose his virginity, fiery yet gentle, and Clark knew one-night stands weren’t for him. He was too emotional, giving his heart as well as his body.

So he studied hard, helped back home as much as he could, came close to sleeping with a male student but it never happened, honed his powers, saving people in secret, until he was ready.

In 1938, he started full-time work at _The Daily Planet,_ and debuted as Superman.

He found himself fascinated by tough, ambitious, beautiful Lois Lane, but she would always be unattainable, because while he admired, respected, and even loved her, he didn’t desire her. 

He found it a little awkward when he met Jimmy Olsen, but as long as he used ‘Jimmy’ instead of ‘Jim’, it was all right. The redheaded cub reporter was vivacious and eager, but Clark’s heart was elsewhere. 

_One night, and I’m mooning like a schoolgirl!_

But he couldn’t deny what he felt, and there were times when he looked around in a crowd on the street, hoping to see Jim, or in a movie theater, or in the park. It was a little painful to watch Clark Gable movies now.

He wondered if he was condemned to wander around in loneliness, always searching for his companion of that one perfect night.


	5. It Happened Again Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reporters and madcap heirs.

**1939**

Clark fluttered down from the sky, Batman peering up from the rooftop.

“Superman.”

“Batman.”

Clark felt tired. He was feeling lonely in the big city, remembering Jim, then castigating himself for such schoolgirlish thoughts. Jim had been a one-night stand, nothing more, though he hadn’t slept with anyone since.

“So, why have you called this meeting?” asked Batman.

Clark looked at the shadowy figure standing before him on a desolate Gotham rooftop. Earlier this year, another costumed hero had come upon the scene: the mysterious Batman of Gotham City.

Batman was cold, paranoid and not give to camaraderie, but they ended up working on enough cases together so that Clark had a proposal to make.

“I think it’s time we revealed our identities.”

Batman’s jaw set. “Why?”

Clark shrugged. “Practical reasons. It’ll save time in the long run. We’re the only two heroes around, at least right now. Who else are we going to tell?”

Batman considered the logic of the argument, then said grudgingly, “All right.”

Clark smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Clark Kent. And I’m also Kal…”

Batman was removing his cowl when he froze, staring at Clark.

_“Cal?”_

Clark heard a voice the thought he’d never hear again and watched midnight-blue eyes come into view. Dark hair, not blond, but there was no mistaking those eyes.

_“Jim?”_

& & & & & &

**Later That Night**

“So, I slept with a Clark that night after all.”

“Yes, you did.”

“And I slept with a really big-time newspaper reporter, too, like Gable’s character.”

“Well, _future_ big-time newspaper reporter. And it looks like I really slept with a rich, madcap heir!”

“I’m _not_ madcap.”

“Screwball?”

“Maybe a screw loose or two.”

“Mmm, this chest really looks good without an undershirt.”

“This really calls for a cigarette, if I still smoked…wait, you mean five years ago… _I deflowered Superman?!”_

“The Walls of Jericho came tumbling down, my madcap heir.”

“I’m _not_ madcap!!!”


End file.
